Bunker 57
Vinay III - Area 189 Epsilon
"Orders coming through" called out the vox operator over the bustling platoon command post. The noise level immediately dropped as the Lieutenant strode across the command post to receive it.
"At last!" the lieutenant stated. He read the order and turned to the command post.
A grizzled voice piped up "Don't tell us L/T, attack and hold the Bunker ref 057. Two tanks will be sent up from reserve to help and artillery will perform a 5 minute bombardment at precisely 04:30"
The new lieutenant looked at the grizzled veteran sergeant who had spoken up.
"How did you know that!" he demanded. "If operational security has been somehow been compromised..."
"Relax L/T" the sergeant said through a cloud of cigar smoke.
Nobody knew how Sergeant Webber always seemed to have a supply of cigars, also no one knew how he had survived three years in this hell hole.
Webber continued "It is the 6th day of the new lunar month sir. The colonel, may the emperor protect us from him, sends that order every 6th day of the month. Two tanks appear, the artillery pounds the enemy, we attack. This has been the procedure, every blasted month, for the last three years". The L/T looked on incredulously. He was about to lambast the sergeant for his defeatist talk but noticed the weary nods from other troopers in the command post.
"That is ludicrous, surely they will be ready for us?" he stammered.
"Of course they are sir. They withdraw at 04:20 to safety and come back in time for us. In the first few months we took the Bunker, they counter attacked and threw us back. It cost a lot in casualties trying to hold on to it, so they learnt to withdraw, let us take the bunker, and counter attack later when the assault grenadiers and armour were withdrawn. We would be weakened and they would throw us out. Other times they cram the area with weapons and slaughter us. Other times they pre-empted the attack with one of their own - but they learned their lesson on that" Webber spat on the floor.
"We don't we change tactics? Attack early, more men are needed" said the L/T questioningly, alarmed at what he was hearing.
"Can't sir" replied Webber. "The men and tanks are needed for the attack on Bunker 70 on the 8th. The enemy kick us out on the 7th, send their reinforcements off the bunker 70 and away they go".
"This is terrible, I shall call headquarters and stop this madness!" shouted the L/T.
"Every month the new L/T does that sir" replied a trooper. "It never does any good".
"They will listen to me!" he shouted at the now cowering trooper.
"I will stop this madness, and we shall take AND HOLD Bunker 57".
Ten minutes later the Lieutenant came off the vox, red faced and almost tearfully whispered "We attack at dawn".
Opposite Bunker 57 04:25 local time.
The rain came down in sheets, turning an already waterlogged trench into a stream. The men shivered, ankle deep in freezing water. The assault grenadiers were in place on the left. The plan was simple, as always. The platoon would wait for the artillery to hit the near empty bunker and trench lines, the two tanks would advance over a makeshift bridge and the Cadians would advance behind them. The grenadiers would flank left and the bunker would be taken out by Sergeant Webber with his trusty Plasma gun. The L/T crouched in the water and mud with the Sergeant.
"Is it always like this?" he asked. The sergeant glanced his way, a damp cigar sticking out his mouth.
"Nah...Sir. This is good. The rain will give us slightly better cover. It will be muddy and slow us down though. We might lose the cover of the barrage".
The L/T noted the kill marks on the stock of the Plasma Gun. Three separate rows. The top row was a long line of kills, the second marked two crosses and the third a bird. The sergeant noticed his looked and explained "The top row shows how many bunker kills, the second row vehicles and the bird was an enemy aircraft - complete fluke of course but that's how I became sergeant".
"How many warzones have you been in?" asked the L/T
The sergeant laughed and spat in the mud. "Just here, literally, I came to this trench fresh from training. The fourteen bunker kills on the stock are all from bunker 57".
Before the L/T could hide his look of disbelief and reply, a sharp tearing sound resounded across the sky. The enemy bunker and trench line erupted in explosions and gouts of mud and smoke. From behind them could be heard there rumble of tank engines and tracks squeaking.
"Time for number fifteen" muttered the Sergeant. "LET'S GO! For the emperor!" he shouted as he scrambled up the short ladder and over the sandbags.
2 | Page